Friends in Strange Places
by Alena24cm
Summary: Crossover with Harry Potter. Bakura discovers western magic and Harry gains a new ally.
1. Chapter 1

I own neither Harry Potter nor YuGiOh.

You may have to forgive my portrayal of the yugioh characters, don't know them very well. But these are fun crossovers and I thought I'd try my hand at it.  Hope you like!

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'It always does well to keep one's skills sharp.' The white haired thief mused as flipped through some other poor sucker's wallet. Stuffing the bills into his pocket, he slipped the wallet into a handy trashcan and continued sauntering through the busy London streets.

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Mostly focusing on how much he detested his family, Harry wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings. His aunt and uncle fawned over his cousin a few paces ahead, and he knew that somewhere near him one of the Order was watching.

He hated these trips to the city, watching his cousin flaunt whatever new things he received while trying to ignore snide comments about 'useless wastes of space not deserving even the privilege of being in the same vicinity as the oh-so wondrous Duddy-kins.' Harry pulled a face, fingers toying with the wand in his pocket, wishing they could've just left him at home.

Unfortunately, ever since the Order had threatened them, the Dursley's had been keeping a close eye on him. He supposed they believed that if they watched him all the time, nothing like the dementors last summer would occur. He also figured they were afraid that if they left him alone in the house, his 'freakish friends' might visit and wreck the place. He sighed in resignation, shoving his hands deeper in to pockets and deciding to just get through the day and try not to think much about it.

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Bakura leaned against a wall, distractedly eating bits of acquired chocolate and scanning for a potential target. His face twisted in slight disgust as a grossly fat teen whined to a large man and a skinny, horse-faced woman about how unfair it was that the freak got to come along. Bakura raised an eyebrow in surprise as the man and woman both shot glares at the younger teen who slouched along behind them, then proceeded to reassure the spoiled brat that he was the abosolute…Bakura tuned them out, not caring to listen. He felt only slight pity for the boy lost in thought behind them, wearing what were obviously castoffs of the obese boy in front. He wouldn't have bothered sparing the four another thought though, except for the strangely dressed man following them.

The portly man's fashion sense was horrendous. It was as if he'd walked into a second hand clothing store and grabbed the first things he saw. Bakura could honestly say he'd never seen anyone wear yellow loafers, brown plaid slacks, a ruffled, light blue blouse, topped with a wide brimmed straw hat. The effect was somewhat muffled with a dark brown trench coat, but he still found himself chuckling at the absurdity of the outfit. He figured even his overly kind hikari would have trouble not laughing in the idiot's face.

He probably would have just ignored this man to, if not for the way his eyes wanted to slide by him, even with the outfit he wore. The thief didn't like the way whatever it was seemed to be messing with his mind. Bakura's expression darkened as he watched how no one else on the street seemed to notice the strangely dressed man. Eyes narrowed as he watched the portly man toy with something long and thin in his coat pocket. Leaving the wall Bakura trailed him, ignoring the way his eyes wanted to blur. A few blocks and turns later made him certain that the idiot was following the other four, probably the one termed 'freak' as that boy seemed to have caught a glimpse of the idiot, smiled at him, then turned and appeared to laugh if the shaking shoulders were any indication. The two adults, he was almost certain they weren't his parents, had turned and shot him a glare. The boy hadn't stopped laughing, the man's face grew red, but he just turned forward again and the woman only seemed to sniff and go back to practically petting the fat kid. Bakura sneered in disgust.

Deciding he was bored with simply following them, he took a more proactive approach of silently slipping up behind the oddly dressed man, and simply retrieving the object he'd been toying with. That part went well enough, but he froze as, something, seemed to well up inside him. Not liking it, he moved to throw the stick, it at least appeared to be a wooden stick, down. This action had the unfortunate consequence of having the idiot's clothing bursting into flame. Startled, but liking this effect, he instead tightened his grip on the stick, laughed, and waved it towards building. Windows burst. Smiling rabidly he decided he liked whatever this new power was.

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His heart was sent racing the moment he heard the shouting behind him. He spun and pulled out his wand, expecting death eaters to be flooding the street. He was momentarily startled at the lack of black robes and white masks. A few conscientious people were already using coats to beat the flames off of Mundungus. Rushing towards him himself, he veered as he noticed a white haired kid about his age waving a wand around. He wasn't sure exactly what he should do, the kid looked more demented than Malfoy. Any decision was taken from him, though, when the boy, without an incantation, waved the wand in his direction.

Harry was too surprised to dodge, and barely managed to cast a shielding charm. Instead of dissipating, the spell was reflected. The white haired kid stared at him in shock as the white light struck back at him. The light hit his chest, causing a glow and, it seemed a darkness almost, started to leak out from him. Harry was horrorstruck as the boy dropped his wand, following it to the ground, and clutched at his chest screaming, seemingly trying to hold the darkness in. Harry found himself stumbling towards the other, not sure how to help, but not wanting to see anyone else die. Their eyes met, and there was so much pain in the other's expression that Harry could do nothing other than reach out to him. The darkness burst from the boy's chest and slammed into him. A pain similar to the scar burst in his head and then he knew no more.

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After exploding the window Bakura turned to look towards where the flaming man had been, he was surprised at the sight of the dark haired boy with another stick in his hand. Out of surprise he slashed his own stick towards the boy, and was shocked to see whatever he had done reflected back at him. He didn't have enough time to move and so tried to call the shadows to him, something happened though, too fast for him to understand. It felt as if his body was being torn apart. He grabbed for the ring, but something wasn't letting him grab it, and whatever it was, it hurt. Through the pain he could see the boy, green eyes bright with worry, he reached out towards him, frantically searching for something to grab onto, the boy was the nearest thing.

Vertigo. Darkness. Pain.

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He was laying on something soft, cocooned in warm fabric, definitely not his own bed. He peeled open still tired eyes, not quite sure where he was, and tried to dislodge the sleep fog from his mind.

"Ah, you're awake, Harry. How do you feel?" A voice he dimly recognized as Albus Dumbledore asked, before setting glasses on his nose. Harry blinked, freeing his hand from the tangle of blankets to adjust his glasses to get a better look around the room. His mind still failed to call up where he was supposed to be.

"Headmaster?" He asked, wondering what he was doing, wherever he was. He was vaguely aware that he should be angry at the man still, but his head felt too funny to bother with any emotion besides confusion.

"You've been asleep a few days, Harry. Do you remember what happened?"

Harry closed his eyes, mentally going over where he had been. He remembered being with the Dursleys, and they had gone into London. Then the rest flooded back into his mind, he scrambled upright, fighting the restricting sheets, staring at Dumbledore with frantic eyes. "Is he alright! That boy, he wasn't hurt, was he?" His hands fisted in his lap, twisting the sheets, hoping that he hadn't gotten someone else killed.

Dumbledore's eyes crinkled in concern, "What boy?"

Harry frowned, "The white haired boy, about my age. He had a wand, was waving it around and grinning. He made the windows break, probably set fire to Mundungus. He didn't say anything though." Harry paused, remembering the window he broke, and random things he set on fire at Olivanders when trying out wands. "It sort of seemed as if he'd never held a wand before," he said slowly, "but how could that be?"

Dumbledore smiled, "It would seem someone came into their magical talent late. He probably became frightened and ran away. Don't you worry, we'll let the ministry know, and they'll keep an eye out for him." Harry wasn't too sure that would really help anything, his opinion of the ministry wasn't the greatest. Dumbledore's smile lessened, and his eyes grew just a little more serious, "Now, Harry, can you tell me what happened to you?"

Harry shrugged, and scooted back to rest against the headboard. "After he broke the windows, he saw me. I think having the wand in my hand startled him, and he waved his towards me. He didn't say anything this time either. I cast a shielding charm, it was the only one I could think of, and for some reason the spell reflected and struck him." Harry paused, looking at his clenched fists with guilt. "I don't really know what happened, sir, but when the spell hit him, it was like," he cast around for words, trying to explain what he saw, "like shadows, maybe, were coming out of him. He started screaming, like it hurt, and I didn't know what to do!" Harry looked up at the concerned headmaster, eyes pleading for understanding. "I reached for him, I don't know why, maybe it was like bleeding, and I dunno, thought pressure would work or something. But when I touched him, I don't know what happened, but it hurt, and I guess I passed out." He finished his story, eyes focused on his hands once more.

Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder, his face grave, "I've never heard of anything like this happening before, Harry, but you shouldn't worry, things may not have been as they seemed. Your friends are downstairs, they'll be glad to see you're awake. When you're dressed and ready, I'm sure Molly will have something for you to eat." He smiled once more, and turned to leave. Harry called out to him.

"Headmaster, will I go back to the Dursley's?"

"No, you've spent enough time there this summer, it will be alright if you stay here." Smiling brightly at the relieved look on Harry's face, he turned and left the room.

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So… what do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

Still don't own Harry Potter or YuGiOh.

On with the story!

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Soon after Dumbledore had left, Harry drifted back into slumber, though the mystery of the white haired boy, the echo of his pain filled screams, still plagued his mind. For the first time since his godfather's death, he didn't dream about the veil.

When he next woke up, it was to the not quite hushed conversation of the two youngest Weasleys, Ginny and Ron.

"…dore said he was fine, Ron. It was just an accident, not even a Death Eater attack." Ginny whispered to her short-tempered brother.

"I bet it was those muggle's faults, they're awful to him. I bet they even set Dung on fire." Ron's louder voice replied. Harry couldn't help but snicker as he pictured his fat cousin creeping up on the gaudily dressed order member. Ginny practically pounced on him at the small sound.

"Oh, Harry! We were so worried!" The younger girl cried as she grabbed his hand. Then, seeming to realize she had done so, quickly released it and blushed. Before Harry could think much about it, Ron had nudged aside his sister and awkwardly patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, mate, you were out for three whole days. Are you sure it wasn't Death Eaters?" Ron frowned, "Dung didn't even know what happened for sure, useless bloke that he is. He's the one that skipped out on you when you got attacked by dementors, right?" Harry nodded, then told them what he had told Dumbledore earlier that day.

"Do you think that boy was a follower of you-know-who?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

"I don't know. I just don't know."

The moment Harry finally made an appearance in the kitchen he found himself being suffocated by a tearful Mrs. Weasley. And then he was fed more than what seemed to be his weight in pancakes and bacon. He did have to admit he was hungry though. After more explanations and promises to 'never scare her like that again,' the teenagers were finally left to their own devices. Following Ron back to the room they had shared the previous summer, Harry found all his possessions at the foot of his bed, including what he generally kept under the loose floorboard.

From Ron and Ginny he learned that there hadn't been much activity on Voldemort's side, a few Death Eater attacks, but he seemed to be keeping quiet for the time being. Most of the order, including Remus, Harry was disappointed to hear, were out doing 'order business.' Ron made a face. "Blimey, Harry, they don't tell us anything, really."

Over a game of exploding snap Ron and Ginny to him anecdotes of Fred and George's experiments. "Mum made them stay the night at the joke shop when they put something in Ron's drink that made anything he wore turn invisible." A blushing Ginny informed him. Ron turned a brilliant shade of red, and tried to hush his sister. Harry hadn't laughed so hard in months. "Every time he tried to wrap a blanket around himself," Ginny laughingly batted away her brothers attempts at covering her mouth, "it would disappear!"

"Ginny!" Ron gave up and just covered his own ears, cringing from the memory.

"You should have….heard Mrs. Black….scream….when he streaked past her!" Ginny clutched her sides, trying to laugh, breath, and tell the story all at once. Ron just moaned pitifully, grumbling promises of revenge. "Ron….stayed in his room….for hours before it finally wore off." She paused, gasping for breath and wiping her eyes. Harry could just picture poor Ron, huddled underneath a pile of invisible blankets, he almost felt guilty for giving the twins the starting money…but it really was too funny. Harry just grinned. "And you should have heard mum. She screamed at them for an hour before sending them away. They did come back the next day and apologized to Ron, gave him a whole kit of pranks!" She looked over at her now sulking brother. "At least no one was here except us and mom and professor Lupin. Glancing back to Harry she continued, "He gave them a pretty long lecture too, but you could tell he was trying not to laugh."

Harry smiled sadly, thinking about what Sirius would have thought about the prank, then resolutely pushing the thought away. Instead he considered using that particular prank on Dudly. He made a horribly disgusted face.

"What?" Both siblings asked.

Harry waved a hand, as if trying to shoo the mental image away. "Remember when the twins gave my cousin the Ton Tongue Toffee?" he asked. Both nodded, Ron smiling at the memory and Ginny nodding, already making the connection. Fortunately for Ginny, she'd never met his cousin, so didn't have a visual.

"Yeah, mate, that was great." Ron replied. "Just imagine if it was the Nude Nougats…" Ron trailed off, finally seeing what Harry was getting at. "That's really gross. Let's not do that." Ron blinked, then shook his head. "Hey! Think we could get Malfoy to eat one? Serve that prat right." Ron smirked at the thought. Ginny blushed brightly, and even Harry was a little embarrassed at that idea.

"Have you heard from Hermione lately?" Harry asked Ron, quickly changing the subject.

"Just that she can't wait to tell us all about the museums she's been too." Harry nodded, she had written the same thing to him about her trip to France with her parents. She wouldn't return until the week before school began again.

After dinner the three regrouped in the Black library to, supposedly, work on homework. Harry ended up losing spectacularly to both Ron and Ginny at chess. Deciding his pride couldn't take anymore, he actually did work on his nearly finished potions essay, the last of his summer schoolwork. Ron had glared at Harry for actually having his homework done early, at least until Harry handed him his tranfiguration essay to look at.

Harry sighed, and rubbed at a spot of ink on his finger as he listened to the scratching of Ron and Ginny's quills. His relatives had let him have his schoolbooks this summer, and hadn't given him any chores, so he had nothing else to do but schoolwork, reviewing, and thinking about his godfather. Mostly, for the first few weeks at least, he played and replayed the memory of his godfather's death. He remembered the grief and guilt, the sadness, on Dumbledore's face as he told Harry about the prophesy. He felt guilty, now, about his tantrum in Dumbledore's office. And Harry knew, that that's what it was, a tantrum. He sighed once more as the mark finally rubbed off. He put quill to parchment, and mentally cursed Snape for making them write so many inches of essay.

The next morning the green-eyed boy woke from restful sleep, thankful for the lack of Voldemort sent visions. That is, unless Voldi had sent him dreams of running through a pyramid of all things, clutching heavy bags of gold, laughing as if, well, as if he had just pulled an exceptionally good prank on Snape. Harry rolled over in his bed, staring at the wall with his back to a lightly snoring Ron. It really was the sort of laugh Sirius probably used, when he had pulled a particularly unpleasant prank on Snape. It was the side of Sirius, and of his father, that he didn't like to think about. Not wanting to dwell on it anymore, Harry climbed out of bed, deciding to see if anyone had returned.

He was surprised to see Mundungus seated almost gingerly at the kitchen table, and a stormy looking Molly Weasley seated across from him. Dung held the Daily Prophet up before him, as if to shield himself from the woman's ire. Mrs. Weasley, for her part, sat gripping a cup of tea. Dung, Harry noticed, was lacking one. He paused on the threshold, wondering if retreating would be the better option. Before he could, Mrs. Weasley spotted him.

"Oh, how are you feeling this morning, dear?" Bustling over to him she ushered him to a chair and poured some tea. "After being unconscious for so long, you must still be terribly hungry." At this she shot a glare towards Dung, who had pulled the paper closer to his face, fingers twitching it to rustle slightly. Harry wanted to ask the man about what had happened, but decided that he didn't really want to bring it up and face an even more concerned Molly Weasley. Instead he just reassured her that he felt perfectly fine. Patting him on the head, she sent him up to wake Ron and Ginny for breakfast.

After breakfast he managed to corner Mundungus, who didn't recall seeing any boy with white hair. He did say that his own wand was found lying next to Harry, and it was confirmed that it was indeed the wand that had cast the spells, and it was strange, since the last spell that was cast was one that no one seemed to know of. After listening to Harry's version of events, he agreed, reluctantly, that it could have been accidental. Dung promised that he would keep a look out for the white haired kid, although Harry suspected it was more out of anger at the boy setting him on fire, than concern for the other's well being.

Throughout the day Order members came and went, most Harry didn't really know. The twins showed up in time for dinner, and regaled them all with the tales of new experiments, to the displeasure of their mother. The four Weasleys and single Potter stayed up late into the night, discussing only light hearted things, putting, for the moment, the war far from their minds.

Loud pounding. Gaurds. Frantically trying to untangle himself from heavy blankets that shouldn't have been there. When had he needed more than his own cloak to keep him warm at night? The pounding grew louder and he gave up the struggle with the sheets, trying instead to locate his knives. Panic seized him when he couldn't find them. Then someone was shaking him, and he opened his eyes to see concerned blue ones staring at him.

Harry let his breath out in a rush, letting go of the panic still frantically beating his chest. Ron turned his head towards the door yelled that they were up, and the pounding finally left.

"Are you alright, mate? Were you dreaming about…You-Know-Who?" Ron whispered, worry and slight fear contorting his features.

Harry shook his head. "No, it wasn't about Voldemort."

"Harry!" Ron frowned and glanced around, as if the name would conjure the man himself. Harry merely sighed at his friend antics.

"Sorry, Ron. But, no, it wasn't about him, or sent by him. My scar doesn't hurt at all."

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded.

"You were wrestling your sheets mate, and growling. What sort of dream was it, then?"

Harry sat up against the wall and stared at the ceiling, trying to recall the brief images in his dream. "Someone was pounding on a door, I thought they were, someone's, guards, and I hated them a lot." Then Harry laughed, "It definitely wasn't sent by," Harry paused and rolled his eyes, "You-Know-Who, unless his first reaction is to reach for a knife rather than a wand."

"That's really weird, mate."

"Yeah." Brushing messy hair out of his eyes, Harry asked, "You hungry?"

It wasn't until that evening that Dumbledore appeared, calling Harry into one of the manor's studies. Harry only hoped he didn't want to talk about Sirius. He had managed to stop thinking about his godfather constantly, and really didn't want to talk about him to anyone, especially Dumbledore. Harry wasn't really sure what he felt towards Dumbledore anymore. Resigning himself to the inevitable, Harry braced himself for the discussion that was sure to come.

"How have you been, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, holding a dish of conjured lemon drops out to him. Harry declined the offer and answered the question with a simple, "Fine."

Dumbledore's eyes lost a bit of the usual sparkle, "And how has your scar been feeling, anymore dreams?"

Harry rubbed at his scar, mostly out of habit, "It hurt off and on this summer, and sometimes, I could feel Voldemort's stronger emotions, but nothing like last year. He's been really quiet the last few days especially. My scar hasn't so much as twinged." Dumbledore only nodded. "Are you going to teach me occlumency, sir?" Harry asked, hopeful, yet reluctant at the same time.

"Yes, my boy, I'll begin teaching you today." He smiled at Harry, who wasn't able to smile back. Harry pulled out his wand.

"You don't need your wand for this, Harry." Dumbledore told him, smiling benignly at his student. "First you're going to learn how to occlude. Close your eyes, relax your mind and body, Harry." His voice became softer, almost hypnotic. "Don't try to think of anything. When a thought comes, just let it go. Try to picture a snitch, focus completely on it, push the image of the snitch the top of your mind. Just let any other thought that tries to interfere with it go." They sat there, in silence, for quite a while. Harry did his best the think of the snitch, imagining it's golden wings humming, ignoring any other thought that tried to get in. He was pretty sure he did a poor job of it. Finally Dumbledore asked him to open his eyes again.

"Alright, Harry, now I'm going to try to Legilimize you. Just focus on the snitch Harry." Harry tensed and grimaced, sure this wasn't going to work, but held on to the picture of the snitch in his head. Then Dumbledore locked eyes with him; the snitch didn't stand a chance. Harry saw his Aunt Petunia blow up, he huddled in his cupboard, nursing a bruised jaw, he watched helplessly as Ron was attacked by a brain, he screamed as his Godfather fell through the veil. Then he felt something in him resist, almost annoyed? Again the images started, his cousin chasing him out into the street, a car barreling towards him, staring at his parents in the Mirror of Erised. Then anger welled, and his mind was his own once more. Blinking in surprise he watched as Dumbledore picked himself off the floor, equally surprised.

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Well, that's it for this chapter. The next one, I think, will be fun. Hmm, by the way, if you're wondering about what sort of pairings I may have… ah, it's still really open, and certainly no time soon.

Oh, if you spot errors, grammer or otherwise, don't hesitate to point them out. I personally don't like reading them….

Any advice you can give me would be welcome!


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